Gifts
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We have just concluded the season of giving. Gifts filled spaces around the Christmas tree, decorated each night a candle was lit on Chanukah and enriched the celebration of Kwanza. These gifts brightened the smiles of young children and surprised adults who thought they pretty much had everything. For those less fortunate, there were fewer such gifts, though we should not assume that they have been given little in the gift bazaar that is life.

Indeed, the American tradition of gift-giving, stretching from Black Friday thru Christmas morning to New Year's Day, obscures in its indulgence the power of the gifts already present in our lives. Those gifts have nothing to do with holidays and everything to do with the almanac of our lives. They showcase the true value of our days. No package could contain them. They glorified our lives before we put wrapped gifts under the tree, and they will do so long after most holiday gifts have passed into distant memories.

When I saw the glistening sea while standing on Ireland's Cliffs of Mohr, that was a gift. When I met Carol on a blind-date which I tried to avoid and from which I expected nothing, that was a gift. When the calla lilies I stuck in the ground in fall, assuming they would never reward me in the spring, shot forth on a warm May day, that was a gift as well. When I learned our children were to be born, and our grandchildren, those too were gifts that I had no promise that I would ever receive. When I happened to glance out the window and saw the super moon turns wisps of clouds as bright as day, I looked in awe at a gift which cost nothing, came from no one, yet enriched a moment in my days.

This is true for gifts I have given as well as received. The gift of taking the hand and gently caressing the face of my life's love, of making babies laugh, of crafting stained glass that turns the sun's light into a joyous array of color, of serving others, of caressing my mother's brow as she lay dying - these are also gifts that I have given and keep giving back to me. If I am fortunate enough to be given the gift of more years of life, I hope I can repay it ten-fold with such gifts to others.

We live, sadly, in cynical times. We are encouraged to demand what we feel we are owed, get angry at those we are told block our way, criticize more than we praise, and distrust too much and too many in our lives. We forget that life owes us nothing and that cynicism just obscures from view the true gifts that enhance our lives.

We can choose, instead, to live a life of gratitude, for both the gifts of love, beauty, and life we receive and for those we are privileged to be able to offer others. This kind of a season of giving is not confined to the end of the year but is the timeless reward of thankfulness and grace.

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